The Art of Misconception
by Maids of Lorraine
Summary: Lord Kenshin Himura is every woman's dream. He however, has his eyes set on a certain untouchable Lady Kamiya. Confident as ever, he'll make a bet with Sanosuke Sagara that he, Kenshin Himura, can get any woman he wants... including the Lady Kamiya.
1. Kamiya of the Thousand Cranes

Kenshin Himura reclined in his richly carved arm chair- long legs propped up precisely upon a matching velvet stool.  The vermilion colorings matched the dark fluid he swirled haphazardly within the confinements of an elegant glass.  The contents of which, he downed with a single tilt of his head.  Long red hair, often compared to flames was fastened neatly in a high ponytail.  Stray strands fell across the bare skin of his arms and chest; Toned, hard, and gleaming in the flickering light of the fireplace.  

            Gold eyes glance unseeing at the priceless grandfather clock standing proudly in the far end of the room, before they shifted to the crystalline windows.  Arched to cover the expanse of the night sky.  A soft sigh passes over him as he closes his eyes and leans comfortably back into his seat.  Moments later those lashes sweep up and glaring gold gems are trained upon the intricately designed ceiling of his room.  It was funny.  Why was it that he, the Marquis of Drakgon, a man who was rich enough to have his ceiling embroidered, so utterly unhappy?  It seemed unfair, after all—there were people out there who didn't have food to fill their children's bellies.  Yet ironically, when one had such monstrous material possessions like he—there seemed to be a lack of motives or ambitions in life.  Women, whether drawn from his dark good looks or from his ungodly mass of wealth, threw themselves like so many pretty flies at his doorsteps… his feet.  His bed.  

            Outside a lone coyote howled—and inside a muffled mew was heard.  The rumpled head of a lovely tempest woke up confused.  One delicate hand fell across the empty sheets next to her.  An agitated wrinkle of that fair brow, a dark scowl rolling in, as she quickly scanned the room.  Upon seeing the lanky object of her search, the unbecoming frustration was instantly dispelled.  Skillfully pouting the luscious redness of her lips and hinting with those dark smoky eyes, she patted the vacant spot next to her.  Kenshin watched with passive amusement.  How predictable.  Well like he said—he was never short of bed warmers.

            Perhaps that was his dilemma in life.  He simply didn't have any.  Everything was at his disposal—what Kenshin wanted Kenshin got; Women, clothes, titles, horses, and that unmentionable sum of wealth.  It is said that men thrive off of challenges- thus it must be imperatively damaging for a man to not have this fundamental basis of an unreachable goal.  In other words, it was good and all to be king of the mountain, until one discovers that sitting on it is rather boring.  And he, Kenshin Himura, was one bored puppy.  

            A more defined thump could be heard from the direction of the bed as his eyes refocused on the maid that was quickly falling into frustration mode once more.  He raised his brows, and vaguely wondered if she would start pounding the bed in a most un-lady like manner should he ignore her antics much longer.  Rising obligingly from his lethargic position he padded his way over to her willing arms.  It would get his mind off of things for the moment—at least, until the morning.  

            The cup of coffee was steaming.  Kenshin watched the white steam puff its way laboriously out of his cup and into the air.  Sipping delicately at the rims, he looked past the wisps of vapor at the rather large pile of unanswered letters and invitations.  Long fingers tapped agitatedly.  There they were sitting nice and neat, growing progressively larger as the weeks passed.  If the servants were ever lazy about something, it certainly wasn't this.  

            Granted, it wasn't illogical for someone of his status to receive mammoth amounts of letters; Most of them direly hinting, and some blatantly short of demanding his presence.  It was fun, for the first few times anyway.  Every other event after that was suspiciously repetitive.  Flicking a finger resentfully at the pile of loving perfumed paper, he sent the entire neat stack into satisfying disarray; spilling besides themselves over his carpeted floor.  

            A loud knocking sounded at his door as it simultaneously swung forward, and Kenshin looked up.  A tall-distinguished man walked through, filling the frame.  A wide smile offset his trimmed look as he grinned unabashly at Kenshin.  Crossing his arms he leaned against the bar counter.

            "You look like hell."  He grinned.  "Rough night with the ladies?"

            Kenshin only smirked.  Sanosuke Sagara, practically known for his unannounced visits, had once again barged past his footmen and charged up uncalled for to his room.  Bold, brash, and rude—he possessed an undeniable charm and a heart-stopping grin.  He was also a heavy drinker and loved to gamble-- the very bad boy that every mother would steer her daughters clear from in hopes of avoiding financial ruin.  If he wasn't the son of a well-established Viscount, Kenshin imagined that Sanosuke would have already been kicked out of higher society.  And if he wasn't Kenshin's best friend, Sanosuke would have been deftly thrown off of The Drakgon estate by now. 

            "Well in any case" the man continued, gesturing to the mess on the table and floor.  "You don't have to take it out on the cards, it's not their fault you are so very popular with the ladies-- As well as their money grubbing mothers."  

            Kenshin pursed his lips, feeling particularly moody, and not enjoying this particular brand of jest.  "I will have them cleaned up later."

            Sanosuke ran a hand up through his hair, unapologetic in the least.  Rather, he was already busy searching the ground for something in particular.  Shifting the cards unceremoniously with his foot, trying to uncover the letters below.  Kenshin watched with mild interest before he asked testily.  "Would you like to take them for further scrutiny?  Perhaps there is one with a particular smell you would like to keep?"

            "Not at all."  Sanosuke replied without looking up.  "In fact, I'd imagine you'd be rather sorry if I did."  With a satisfied muffle that sounded uncannily like 'A ha!' He stooped down and pulled a single paper off the ground.  With a knowing smile he looked up.  "It seems my dear friend that you have been invited to the English Debuts in London."  Kenshin obligingly, looked thoroughly unimpressed.  Every eligible man with a decent amount of money was invited.  

            "Anyway" Sanosuke continued, pressing the paper at Kenshin.  "I hear there's a big fish in the waters this year.  You know, a diamond among the diamonds.  I also hear that practically every eligible man in London, and many from Paris have already thrown themselves at her feet.  Mysteriously, their efforts seem to wane drastically after the first week.  They say not even the 'great rake' of Drakgon can win her over."  

            "Perhaps she has some unsightly disfigurement." 

            Sanosuke shook his head.  "Nope, she is as pretty as they come.  Arguably, the most beautiful woman to have ever graced the London ballroom.  She's a Kamiya, very wealthy family— The Thousand Cranes estates are among the oldest and most prestigious."  Sobering somewhat from his normal tirade he added on a more serious note.  "You aren't getting any younger Kenshin—the Drakgon title needs an heir.  Your ancestors would have you shot and quartered, if they found out you left the castle and its accompanying wealth to the government to dispose of."

            Kenshin scowled, acknowledging reluctantly, the truth of Sanosuke's words.  He, Kenshin Himura had no qualms when it came to beautiful women willingly jumping into his bed.  However, it just so happened that he didn't particularly want any of them to stand besides him permanently.  If it was an heir he was missing, surely he might have impregnated someone at some point in time-- ladies sometime came to him claiming it was his child that they carried.  Unfortunately, after the child was born, it seemed to suspiciously not resemble Kenshin at all… in any case, he couldn't have a bastard for an heir.  

            "Alright.  I will go."  Kenshin decided.  It couldn't hurt to look at this woman, who – as Sanosuke put it, was more beautiful than any he had seen.  It certainly was quite a statement to make if nothing else.  On top of it, if no man could get her—it made her all the more desirable.  A trophy wife as beautiful as Helena of Greek myths— on top of which would greatly advance his already gargantuan bank account, would be the perfect wife. 

            Sanosuke grinned.  "I knew the great rake couldn't resist such an offer."  Punching Kenshin's shoulder approvingly, he turned, heading towards Kenshin's limitless collection of rare wines.  "This calls for celebration."

Kenshin smirked good naturedly, grumbling just loud enough for Sanosuke's ears.  "You just want to drink my wine."

            The rhythmic pounding of Kenshin's horse drew up nearer to Selendrile of Drakgon, a charming castle situated in the lovely woods of England.  There was another, he could have gone to in the vicinity of this country.  Kenshin had such castles situated all over the best sites of Europe; most of them had exquisite vineyards that generated more income than he could spend in a hundred lifetimes.  Granted, none of them were as prestigious and grand as The Drakgon Chateau itself.  Few castles in Europe could hope to compete in age, and even fewer could match the French estate on which it stood in beauty or value—the Drakgon vineyard reaching nearly legendary heights. But out of the two he possessed in England, Selendrile was by far his favorite.

            Selendrile of Drakgon, used to be called Selendrile of Alys.  It was owned and run by the accomplished Lady Alys.  Certainly unconventional, despite its illustrious beauty, no one had wanted to purchase Selendrile because of its female owner and the history behind it.  Definitely male masochism in full blast, Lady Alys had refused to marry, using her wealth as leverage she had built a castle in the middle of the woods to escape her pursuers.  It is said that she later fell for some peasant—a slap in the face to her high status hopefuls.  She passed away leaving the castle to a female successor, but that female fell on hard times-- English families ever resentful, would not buy the castle from her.  Kenshin imagined that if Lady Alys knew what befell her beloved castle, now owned by some illustrious rake, she would most likely have turned in her grave.

             Reaching the marble arch of the doorway, a groom rushed out to take Kenshin's mount.  Kenshin nodded absently at the man and strode purposefully into his castle. The interior was bustling about, no doubt by the short notice of his arrival.  He had ridden in his carriage from Drakgon to the harbor, then steam boated rather uncomfortably- despite the rich room, from France to England.  What awaited him had been his customary mount, which he had ridden quickly to his castle.

            The instant his presence was announced, a streamline of servants rushed their way over and lined in order of importance; the males on his right, the females to his left.  In unison they bowed and Kenshin marched wordlessly through the human tunnel.  Head held high, his flaming red hair a banner behind him, he looked every bit the renowned Marquis that he was; rich – but cold.  

            The day of the English Debuts arrived with great dexterity.  The usual creeping of the time miraculously sped up with the whip of some unknown force.  Within the beautifully sculpted doorway, diamond chandeliers adorned the high-ended ceiling in classy elegance.  Below the glittering lights swayed dozens of young ladies, fresh peaches that had blossomed into their first steps of womanhood.  Young men fawned beside themselves over the lovelier ones, as soon as their tapered feet touched the cool floor.  

            Kenshin stood, legs crossed as he leaned against the wall besides the dark velvet curtains that hung in artful curves around him.  His uniquely colored hair stood out sharply against the backdrop of a full moon hanging belligerently in the night sky.  The image was becomingly picturesque, as hopeful ladies threw continued glances at the handsome Marquis.  

A rough pat landed soundly on Kenshin's shoulder and he nearly choked on his brandy.  Glancing to his left, he was met with the wide grin of none other than Sanosuke.

"Glad you could make it Himura."  Sanosuke quipped, simultaneously downing his drink and looking around at the colorfully curvaceous forms of the women. He whistled sharply below his breath, as pleased eyes caught particular beauties.  Kenshin followed his gaze, considerably less impressed.   His search was halted as a woman began to sashay her way towards him.  The warm light of the room highlighting the healthy sheen of her heavy tresses twisted artfully upon her head.  

            "How about a dance?" Cooed the sultry voice. 

            "Why Ms. Takani, I'd love to dance with you," interrupted Sanosuke, extending his hand expectantly.  Startling jades flew from Kenshin to the tall man standing next to him.  Megumi Takani arched a shapely brow disdainfully at his gesture.  Looking down at Sanosuke's gloved hand she smiled contemptuously.  

            "I was referring to Lord Himura."  

            "And you got me, what a deal."  He grinned.

            "Indeed."  

            Kenshin watched with mild interest at the foreplay between the two, before he spoke— low baritones cutting through precisely. "Leave the lady alone Sagara."

            Sanosuke drew back his hand, smirking.  "Aw, Himura- I was merely trying to save you some time for a real lady."  Megumi tossed Sanosuke a dark look.  "Besides," he continued purposefully, nudging Kenshin, "you have to keep an eye out for that Kamiya girl."  

            "I'd like a dance with Lord Himura if you don't mind." Megumi emphasized cattily.  A smile that was armed to turn into a snarl if Sanosuke continued his antics.  Shrugging, Sanosuke wandered into the crowd, one arm raised in salute for his departure.

            Kenshin sighed inwardly, watching Sanosuke Sagara disappear.  Gold eyes shifted back to the curvaceous woman standing before him, her intentions made quite clear to him on numerous occasions before this one.  Megumi Takani was set on becoming the next Marchioness of Drakgon.  But then again, she was far from the only one with such aspirations.  Obligingly, Kenshin gave his renowned predatory smile and led Megumi towards the dance floor.  Megumi Takani, for her part, practically glowed with satisfaction at the faintly envious faces of her women rivals.

            Several turns of music had passed before Kenshin had become sufficiently bored of the ballroom scene.  A thousand layers of lace had passed before his eyes, so that the carefully detailed seams were starting to blur into one massive sheet of expensive color.  Eager females, or eager mothers of shy females, had their share of prodding—attempting to spear their sharpened harpoons into the fish that was Marquis of Drakgon.  Eventually Kenshin found himself strolling, like so many times before, alone in the vast gardens—far away from the commotion inside the ballroom.  

            Outside, the air was crisp and fresh, doing wonders to clear his head of the frivolous conversations from within.  A soft sigh passes through his lips as he looks up towards the night sky.  The heavens were brilliant, cascaded with sparkling gems that winked down at him.  Looking into the vast empty space, it seemed a sharp reminder of the biting loneliness that had plagued him night after night.  The terrible unhappiness that stemmed from a lack of direction.

            Kenshin closed his eyes and turned the corner, heading into the center of the rose garden.  A startled cry tore him out of his revere in the same instant he felt something crash into his chest. Gold eyes snap open just in time to see a mass of lace and silk tumble to the ground.  Crouching down concerned, he reached out a hand to the wisp of a girl gracefully crumpled on the floor.  

            "Are you alright miss?"  

            A pale face looked up, perfectly shaped.  Long lashes fluttering open to reveal large and glittering gems, as beautiful as the night sky.  Kenshin drew in a sharp breath, unconsciously tracing the high ends of her cheekbones; watching the moonlight play against her porcelain skin.  Dark shimmering tresses were carefully pinned, naively exposing a long and graceful neck.  

            The first word that came to Kenshin's mind was innocence.  The girl looked like a virgin goddess, sitting so still and graceful.  Her cheeks flushed becomingly as she allowed herself to be pulled up by him, the train of her dress flowing with her as she stood.  Was she the Kamiya girl?  He met her eyes again, watching as something colored the depths of her pools.  Was it …concern?

            "Is something wrong sir?"  

            "Of course not miss."  Kenshin quickly responded, smiling.  "Forgive me, I did not mean to stare."  Cocking his head playfully, he leaned in purposefully whispering.  "You're very beautiful."

            The woman smiled gently.  "So I've heard."  She remarked ambiguously, and drew away.  Kenshin arched an eyebrow.  

"What's a fine young lady like yourself doing alone inside these lovely gardens?" 

"The same reason that a fine young man like yourself is." She mocked, smiling charmingly.  Kenshin smirked.  She had spunk.

            "This fine young man was hoping to invite a fine young lady to a stroll in the gardens."

            "Is that so?"

            "Certainly."  Kenshin offered her his arm.  "Consider it his sincerest apologies."

            The girl looked pensive as she trained her luscious lavender eyes upon his offered arm, before she laced her own slim hand boldly though he crook of his.  "Fine ladies never turn down an apology."  She decided.

            The gentle spraying mist, born from the thin pillar of water jutting towards the heavens, created a mystic aura around the rose gardens.  Blooming red petals, as deep as the color of blood dotted the fountain's surface.  Floating serenely within its watery embrace was the reflection of Kenshin and a beautiful young woman.  He watched her though the liquid's glassy surface, the broken image unmarring the peace present on the girl's face.  He closed his eyes as he tilted his face to the heavens; letting the heady fragrance of the flowers and the sweet taste of the waters, momentarily charm away his troubles. 

            He opened his eyes once more looking out just as a scoopful of cold water attacked his handsome face.  Kenshin stared, spluttering indignantly, as the droplets dripped off his darkened red bangs, at the girl who stood away laughing merrily at him.  In his entire existence, no one had ever dared to throw water – or anything for that matter—at him.  He stood somewhat bewildered, and the girl simply laughed harder at his loss.  Tinkingly sounds of chiming bells dancing to the beat of the fountain.  She waved her hands, reining in her mirth as she grinned happily.

            "Never close your eyes around a woman."  She sniffed, throwing the arch of her nose daintily- if triumphantly-- into the air.  "It's rude."  

            Kenshin cocked his head to one side, smiling at her playfulness.  In that moment, as he watched her laugh, he realized that he had never seen anyone quite as lovely.  There was something about her, a magnetic aura that both attracted and demanded attention.  Just then, the sound of another's voice cut through the intimacy of their world.  Kenshin turned and rewarded the culprit with haughty annoyance.  The young man looked apologetic, but dutifully pressed on.

            "My lady, it is late.  Your carriage is waiting."

            The girl smiled and nodded.  "Thank you.  I'm coming."  

             Turning back to Kenshin, she grinned.  "I shall be leaving my lord, good night."  

             "Of course my lady."  He agreed.  "You may leave as soon as you have repaid your debts for throwing water at me."  A wicked grin crossed his face.  

              She arched an eyebrow.  "And pray tell what would you like from me?"

              He leaned in.  "I'll settle for your name."

              She smiled.

             "Kamiya of the Thousand Cranes."


	2. He hath Gold Eyes

_Let's promise never to marry a man…_

_Unless he gets both our approval._

_Why's that?_

_So we can protect each other from marrying someone we don't love._

_Or from marrying someone that doesn't love us?_

_Yes._

_Alright it's a deal.  I promise._

            Quiet whistles of rushing air sounded in the early morning as a worn practice sword slashed continuously at an invisible opponent. The slender figure of a young woman clad in breeches was highlighted as the sun's golden rays spilled over the horizon, bathing the Thousand Cranes Estate in a soft light. Slender fingers tightened upon the hilt of the blade as she lunged, striking forward with practiced force.  A deft flick of her wrists brings the blade upwards into a defensive block.  Quickly rotating her wrists, she brings the wooden sword downwards in an artful spin—straight into the heart of her invisible opponent.  Paring to perfection with her intangible foe.

            Sea-foam blue eyes were trained upon the empty space before her as slender shoulders rose and fell to the rhythm of her breaths.  Several strands of black-blue hair, having slipped through the confines of customary pins, floated like so many delicate silk threads in the wind.  The shorter strands, framing her pale and lovely features, plaster like painted designs against the arch of her cheekbones.  The sweet scent of jasmine evident in the air around her.

            Soft steps, the sound of finely embroidered shoes hitting the stone floor, pervade the ritual dance. A moment later, a gentle voice effectively shatters the tense concentration; the heat in the air.  A pale face, much resembling Kaoru's poked comically around the corner.

            "Kaoru?"

            With a sigh, Kaoru Kamiya, sword in hand turned towards the woman who had managed to venture an entire torso around the corner.

            "Yes, Tomoe?  What can I do for you sister?"

            A grin spreads over the other woman's face as she gambled the rest of her person past the protection of the wall. 

            "I thought I might find you here little sister."  Tomoe said knowingly, a slightly conspiratory look upon her features as she perched herself carefully upon the stone steps lining Kaoru's favorite practice area.  "Mother would have a fit if she saw you so mussed," She laughed, adding thoughtfully, "Then perhaps faint when she discovers you've been practicing 'vile men sports' again." 

            Kaoru grinned back.  Yes, if their beloved mother found her dressed in unfashionable man breeches, and a scandalous white chemise made for gentle bred men—not women, it was indeed quite likely that their matron would take a graceful nosedive to the floor.  Then lay upon the carpeted hall like a carved Madonna, until some poor bewildered dolt fanned her back to life. 

            Everyone knew that it was possibly the only cure to fainting spells of gentle bred women. 

            Baroness Kamiya had been known in her youth for exceptional beauty and grace.  Tomoe had inherited both of those divine qualities, down to the very last wave of her perfect hands when she laughed.  Kaoru on the other hand, was not so conventional.  While most of the ton would consider her a possible beauty of the first water, her complete disregard for the English fashion as well as her equally infamous knack for being unusually loud spoken and brash, effectively wilted any chance of a blossoming debut.  Of the few gentlemen that dared to tackle the monstrous task of courting Kaoru, the youngest Kamiya of the Thousand Cranes quickly diced the suitor apart with her quick wit and cutting remarks. 

            If that didn't work—a few good chops with her sword usually finished the job.

            "Good morning to you too sister."  Kaoru said, wiping a sleeve across her forehead.  Sheathing her old sword into an equally aged scabbard, worn and cracked around the edges, Kaoru hung the practice sword lovingly upon a rusted nail.  Flashing her sibling a smile, Kaoru proceeded to plop unceremoniously upon a generous portion of stone step; shifting uncomfortably as the cold seeped through the thin material of her breeches.  Kaoru stole a wondering glance at Tomoe, but if her sister was ever bothered by the un-scrumptious temperature on her bottom, she showed no signs of it.  Crossing her long legs, Kaoru trained her wide and luminous eyes upon the dignified figure sitting across from her.

            Tomoe watched Kaoru's familiar antics, one cream colored hand placed gently against a soft cheek.  A quick assessment made over her sibling's wardrobe, "I suggest you burn those articles of clothing, lest you really want to incur a maelstrom in the halls."  Tomoe remarked.  She had said those exact words to her sister for years now, and although the chance of Kaoru actually listening this time was next to nil, it was nevertheless her duty to warn her little sister of the impending wrath of their high classed mother. 

            And of course, Kaoru was quite practiced in her answers, humoring the little drama they've made over the years.  "Of course," She waved airily mimicking the voice of Baroness Kamiya to perfection, "Dignified women such as yourself should be adorning the latest fashions, not horse-smelling servant boys shirts and breeches..."

            A telltale smile, halfway between amusement and exasperation spread across Tomoe's lips at Kaoru's answer.  "You're not going to listen are you?"

            "Heaven's no." Kaoru chirped happily.

            "Didn't think so." Tomoe agreed.  "Well in that case, I'm sure you're just dying to know about the debuts?"

            Kaoru shifted, running long and slender fingers across the grainy steps upon which they sat.  "Not really."  She grinned wryly.  After a withering look from Tomoe however, she quickly reconsidered.  "Of course I am."

            Tomoe shook her head, continuing.  "In any case, you'll be glad to hear that I've encountered yet another admirer at the ball last night."

            "The usual?"

            "And then some."

            That got Kaoru's interest. 

            If there was one thing more fearsome in all of English debuting than courting Kaoru Kamiya, it was getting past Kaoru Kamiya to court her sister. 

            "Duke of Elbourne?"  Kaoru asked, tilting her head.

            "No"

            "Earl of Vastings?"

            "No"

            "Lord Sanosuke?"

            "Goodness no."

            Kaoru blinked.  "Its someone completely new then?"  A predatory gleam seemed to have cast over otherwise oceanic blue eyes.  Tomoe almost winced for the poor fate of the chap that could be unfortunate enough to cross Kaoru's path when she was on her ego-deflating crusades.  Ego-deflating being the milder word used.

            Tomoe could only imagine the irreversible damage done to previous unwanted suitors.  Her mother had been horrified the last time Kaoru had cut up the breeches of some unpleasant pig that insisted upon Tomoe's presence.  Or the other time Kaoru had punched, non- too lightly, some male chauvinist leering at Kaoru's beloved sister. 

            Tomoe sighed.  Sometime she wished that she too, could be more outspoken, adopting some of Kaoru's devil-may-care attitude.  But she, unlike Kaoru was reared and tempered to be the perfect woman.  At that thought Tomoe grew serious, lavender eyes staring off into the distance.

            Kaoru, noticing her sister's sudden mood swing, dropped her havoc planning ways.  "What's on your mind Tomoe?"

            "I think perhaps you should not be so harsh upon this one."  Tomoe said carefully.

            Kaoru wrinkled delicate brows.  "You like him?"

            "No."

            "Then what's the problem?"

            "Well, I'm not getting any younger.  You and I both know that I started my debuts late to delay the official courting of some older gentlemen--"

            "Swine."  Kaoru corrected immediately.

            "Swine" Tomoe agreed.  "But perhaps we were too naïve to think that our marriages could be solely based upon our choice.  Our line is a noble one, Kaoru, one of us will need to keep our bloodlines pure.  Father and Mother will expect no less.  This means, one of us must marry a noble equal to our status in title or wealth."

            Kaoru grew silent contemplating Tomoe's words.  It was true, the price of aristocracy was that one actually needed to continue to retain the selective and refined blood of nobility.  And of the meager pickings this season, things were not promising.

            Kaoru hugged the slender shoulders of her sister.

            "I'll try to be nice."  She promised.

            Kenshin Himura stood outside his large panel windows, one hipbone pressed lightly upon the sinfully beautiful black marble that lined his carved balcony.  Glass of wine in hand, he sipped thoughtlessly at the polished rims, vacant gold eyes staring off into the distance.  It was all incredibly picturesque, and would have made an impeccable post card. 

            That is, except for the frown that marred the handsome Marquis' face. 

            A moment later, muffled sounds of boots on carpet, and the familiar swing of a heavy oak door announced the arrival of none other then Sanosuke Sagara. 

            "Kenshin!"  He bellowed.

            Kenshin Himura, rubbing delicately at his temples with long fingers turned to look at his friend with a rather testy.  "Yes?"

            "Ah!"  Sanosuke grinned.  "There you are."  Marching past the opaque cloth covering the crystalline windows, he promptly slapped a large hand on Kenshin's back grinning.

            "So did you see her?  The Kamiya girl that is?"

            Kenshin eyed him warily.  If there was one thing Sanosuke Sagara was good at, it was getting to the point. 

            "I see you're not beating around the bush."  Kenshin remarked dryly.

            Sanosuke grinned.  "I know what I want."

            "Obviously."

            Sanosuke frowned, folding his arms in impatience.  "So did you see her or not?"

            "I saw her."

            Throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation at Kenshin's short and most unsatisfying answers, Sanosuke exclaimed (rather loudly) "WELL?"

            "Well what?"

            "WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

            "What do I think about what?"

            "…"

            Sanosuke stared at Kenshin long and hard through narrowed slits, the knuckles of his fists twitching in a manner that most people would find uncannily threatening.  Sanosuke raised his arms, fists clenched, index fingers extended as he drew out a box shape in the air, no doubt enlightening Kenshin on exactly what he meant.

            "The girl!"

            He waved his hands in a figure eight shape.

            "The GIRL!"

            He posed, swinging his hips from side to side.

            "The girl!"

            "The girl!"

            "THE GIRL!"

            Kenshin smirked wryly.

            "She was pretty."

            Sanosuke could have throttled him.

            He settled instead, for a long and scathing look.  Kenshin, for his part, managed a look of perfect indifference at his friend's obvious displeasure.  Sanosuke marched over to Kenshin's lavish couch and plopped obligingly within its cushiony embrace, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

            "You know I won't leave until you tell me exactly what I want to know."

            He wiggled deeper into the couch.  "Your house is very comfortable; I would have no trouble staying."  He threatened, simultaneously eyeing the promising bottle of rare wine hanging belligerently on the wall.

            Kenshin sighed.  The blasted man was insufferable.

            "Alright." He conceded.  It was far faster to just humor Sanosuke than try to convince the man to drop the issue.  "Pray tell, what do you wish to know?"

            "What do you think of Miss Kamiya?"

            "She's quite lovely."

            Now that was the understatement of the year wasn't it?  Miss Kamiya of the Thousand Cranes had been nothing short of ravishing.  Large and smoky eyes had pierced him quite effectively the prior night, and admittedly, the feeling of intoxication had not left him since.  Her air of mystery and womanly softness had both enticed and charmed the aloof Marquis.

            There's no question about it.  Miss Kamiya was nothing if not an enchantress; one that was every bit as powerful as the rumors say.

            Sanosuke tucked a long arm behind his head, long legs brushing the surface of Kenshin's thick carpet.

            "Well is she's so damned lovely, what are you doing mulling about in your room?"

            Kenshin fixed cold flaring gems on his impetuous friend, but said nothing.  A bristling 'I'm not mulling' hardly seemed a dignified response.

            Sanosuke rolled his eyes, deciding the question wasn't important enough to wage a small battle over—he was saving his ammunition for bigger targets anyway.  Waving his hand over his head nonchalantly, he continued, "So are you going to go after her?"

            Kenshin shrugged. 

            True, this girl was beautiful, but so were the other fifty some that had tumbled in and out of his bed.  Was she so different that he needed to go out of his way to court her?  His perfect record more than spoke for itself. 

            "I suppose the great rake finally met his match."  Sanosuke mused a little too loudly.

            Kenshin started, raising an elegant brow.  "I beg your pardon?" 

            Sanosuke grinned.  "It's alright Kenshin, you can't win it all."

            Kenshin scowled.  "I'm quite sure I have no idea what you're prattling on about."

            Sanosuke gave him the largest look of sympathy he could muster.  "I understand," he continued.  "I mean, she really is quite in a league of her own.  Beautiful, smart, and wealthy…"  Sanosuke grinned up at Kenshin's displeased face.  "Don't worry ol' chap, no one will blame you for failing to charm this one, after all, every single male has been turned down so far—no one will blame you for being any different."

            Sanosuke's heartfelt speech was promptly rewarded by the most contemptuous glare that Sanosuke had seen Kenshin give him thus far.  But Sanosuke, ever the sensitive, added.

            "That would explain why you're mulling about."

            "I was not turned down."

            Sanosuke raised his brow.

            "And I am not mulling."

            Sanosuke grinned.

            Kenshin stared hard at his best friend through frightening narrowed slits.  Any other person, noble or otherwise, would have been scrambling for cover wherever shelter could be found.  Granted, Kenshin knew the Heir Viscount was merely baiting him.  He wanted Kenshin to go after this Kamiya, and secure the Drakgon line—and fulfill his duties.  Unfortunately, Sanosuke's appalling immunity to Kenshin's death glares, and his offending goading was not exactly the type of inspiration Kenshin had been hoping for.

            But a little prodding was better than none at all Kenshin wryly supposed.

            "A case of Drakgon Chardonnay."

            Kenshin's attention returned to his most insufferable friend.  What was he raving about this time?

            "I beg your pardon?"

            "Let's make a wager.  I'll wager your heirloom worthy Chardonnay that you cannot get this girl.  You lose, and I'll take home your rare case of wine for my drinking pleasure."

            Kenshin suppressed an urge to roll his eyes.  Drakgon Chardonnay was the most expensive, and time mongering drink to make in the history of alcoholic beverages.  Trust Sanosuke to make a bet with someone else's possessions.

            "And if I win?"

            "I shall bay like a hound at the next debut at the prettiest girl in the room."

            Kenshin sighed softly to himself, inwardly shaking his head.  He was in need of entertainment lately—though granted, while he had not expected one to come in this form, he recognized a challenge when he saw one.  Although from the surface it would seem like a rather off balanced bet, the odds were certainly in his favor.  Kenshin had yet to find a woman alive capable of resisting his wiles.  This Kamiya of the Thousand Cranes was about to get a taste of Drakgonian charm.

            Kenshin smirked at his friend.

            "You better start practicing then Lord Sagara."

            The smell of the market street was something that Kaoru had come to appreciate.  The incredible medley of salts, sugars, and spices, wafted in the air like so many clashing siblings, each bubbling past the other for dominance.  Kaoru for her part, loved the life that seem to pulse within the simple atmosphere of the place.

            Large and fathomless eyes watched beneath a fan of lush lashes.  Watched, as the peasant children chased each other in a simple game of tag, as the merchants hollered their goods—hoping for a sale, as the young maids bustled about-- fresh and beautiful beneath a thin cloak of dust that seem to prevail in the streets.

             Kaoru had long learned that life was not so perfect as the one painted on the surface.  Behind the smiling faces of children, were hungry bellies.  Behind every wily merchant was someone desperate to improve their circumstance—to escape the life of the streets.  Some were successful—others were not. 

            Kaoru did her best to help. 

            On days such as this, Kaoru would slip out of the Thousand Cranes estates dressed in the garments of a young page.  Today however, her clothes were still being secretly mended from the last time she had gotten into a scuffle at the market.  Today she opted for a young hand maid's disguise instead.  Granted, it wasn't as useful, because in a male dominated world—there were disadvantages to being a young unprotected hand maid. 

            Luckily, Kaoru was far from defenseless.  Her worn practice sword was carefully wrapped up in the coarse material of a commoner's carrying sack, strapped neatly to her back. 

            If the entire bulge looked suspicious, it never occurred to Kaoru.

            A faint buzz of excited mummers swept through the crowded streets, as the sides of the roads became even more crammed with people.  Kaoru started at the sudden change, gingery weaving her way to the front, poking her head through the wall of whispering bodies. 

            She was sorely disappointed, as the object of everyone's attention came into full view.

            Sitting inside an overtly decorated carriage was none other than the Earl of Vastings.  The translucent shades, normally hanging over the windows, were swept to one side, so that the common people could see the entire profile of his delectable face.  And there he sat in all his splendor-- awing the crowd with his expensive tastes. 

            Kaoru suppressed the deep and sudden urge to roll her eyes.

            Vastings was nothing, if not a pig.  While most of the ton found his clean cut good looks infinitely desirable, Kaoru could not think of a worst candidate for marriage.  Although he commanded a healthy bank account, his boorish attitude, flaming arrogance, and an innate desire to spend money was reason enough to trash the man from this life to the next.  His insatiable desires for young and unwilling virgins merited him a trip to hell.

            At least, in Kaoru's opinion, there was nothing worse than a man who used his influence for selfish gain.

            The Earl of Vastings had been one of the first candidates to try for the hand of Tomoe Kamiya.  He was also the first of many chumps that had hereto suffered the infamous wrath of Tomoe's little sister, Kaoru Kamiya.  If her memory did not fail her, Kaoru surmised that he was the one she had slugged. 

            It had been most satisfying to see him tumble across the lawn.

            That was only bested by his look of indignation combined with a swelling black eye.  Kaoru sniffed, not the least bit sorry.  Serve him right—the leech.

            Kaoru watched his extravagant procession— complete with a troop of classy decorated horses, trained to prance to the heavens.  Shaking her head, she turned around, trying to weave discreetly into the crowd.  Well—as discreetly as she could with a huge sack that suspiciously resembled a hogtied loaf of French bread, strapped to her back. 

            A sudden muffled scream caught her attention as she turned her head just in time to see a young boy run laughing into the streets, no doubt trying to pet the prancing white horses.  She watched in horror as he stumbled straight into the horses' path. 

            What ensued next was a small disaster.

            Clomping hooves scattered in disarray, as six white horses puffed and reared in startlement at the sudden appearance of a young boy.  A young woman's scream, perhaps the sister of the young child, prompted an uproar.

            The crack of the carriage driver's whip and the sudden opening of the carriage door silenced the crowd before they lost complete control. 

            "What is the meaning of this?"  Thundered the Earl, apparently annoyed at being jostled about in his carriage. 

            "Sir—this" the driver looked down derisively "...boy, startled your horses."

            The Earl of Viscount looked down at the small child.  It was an amazing feat really, considering that he managed to snub the infant of a boy without moving the level of his chin.  Kaoru had always wondered what exactly these pompous men saw through their haughty colored visions.  Did they see a frightened child?  Someone's son?"

            "Whip him."

            Obviously not.

            Another small girl ran out, just as the driver hoisted the long whip from the niche on his belt.  She couldn't have been more than a couple years older than the boy.  Throwing her slender body over his protectively, she held him, baring her own back to the impending lashes of the whip.  Kaoru gritted her teeth. 

            Grabbing the long cloth she had tied around her hair, Kaoru promptly tied a makeshift mask over her face.  The last thing she needed was the Earl to go prattling to her father, or identifying her in public.  Granted, it wasn't the most brilliant disguise in the world, and she probably couldn't explain why she had a hair cloth tied around her face if anyone asked—but Kaoru had little time to ponder such trivialities. 

            Running forward in practiced strides, she simultaneously pulled her old sword from its sheath.  Bringing the blade past an area of loosely tied cloth, purposely fashioned for speedy use, she brought the shiny rapier over her shoulder and sliced upwards in a definitive stroke. 

            The whip laid in two even pieces at her feet.  The long snakelike part twisted in defeat on the floor. 

            The driver looked somewhat bewildered at the stump of what had once been a magnificent piece of horse whip.  Flushing angrily, he looked up ready to lash out verbally at the culprit, but as he did so, the color drained from his face just as quickly as it had appeared.  He now resembled a pallid sickly white; much like an overripe melon… for the shiny tip of a rusted sword was poking precariously at his stubby neck. 

            He swallowed uncomfortably.

            Kaoru spared a glance at the Earl.  He had been standing in a stupor for several seconds before he snapped from his reverie into full blown anger.

            "How dare you raise a weapon against me commoner!!" He fairly boomed the words across the narrow market place.  "Put your sword down at once!  I'll have you hanged for this."

            Kaoru smirked wryly to herself beneath her makeshift mask.  If only the pompous ass knew whom he was speaking too.  Kaoru imagined that he'd be speaking a few octaves lower, with a much better vocabulary.

            Well... maybe not the vocabulary part.

            Kaoru ignored him.

            This however, only served to incite him.  The Earl marched slowly towards her, dark as a storm cloud.  Kaoru looked steadily at him with flaring blue eyes.  If he struck her now, she would be able to do nothing in self defense without revealing her title.  A peasant—a hand maid, could not raise a finger against one of nobility.  Doing so could mean certain death. 

            But revealing her title would mean another severe verbal lashing from her mother.  A young lady of her status, dressed in peasantry clothing, wielding a rusted sword was not only unheard of, it was social suicide.  Her mother would slaughter her for ruining the good name of the Thousand Cranes. 

            The Earl raised his hand to smack her.  Kaoru glared fiercely, bracing herself.  She would just have to pretend to be an insolent maid—even if it meant living down one of the Earl's slaps.  She would not subject her sister or her family to ridicule. 

            She closed her eyes just as his hand came down. 

            The contact however, was never made.

            Kaoru dared to open her eyes to discover that the Earl's arm had been caught in mid-air by a restraining hand.  Azure eyes followed that hand, up a handsomely tailored shirt to a devastatingly beautiful face.

            A beautiful face, with terrifying gold gems for eyes.


	3. The Marquis of Drakgon

_In the midst of darkness…___

_We find unlikely saviors._

            A web of silence seemed to have befallen over the crowd, the fine silvery threads forbidding the quietest of whispers.  It seemed to have brushed Kaoru also, for she could do little but watch in terrible fascination as she stared at the man with flames for hair and golden shards for eyes.

            The temporary surprise that had held the Earl in a stupor quickly wore off into full blown anger.  Kaoru had never seen him so angry.  At least when she had punched him, there was only herself and Tomoe present.  He was not embarrassed in front of the whole market. 

            Ripping his arm away from the man who held it, Vastings glared so fiercely at the stranger, Kaoru was sure that her savior would burst into flames at any moment.

            At least, she was quite sure, until she glanced back at a countenance so cold, it would extinguish any attempts of spontaneous combustion.  It was strange really, but her savior's calm collection was infinitely more frightening than the Earl's steaming rage.  At least, the Earl was predicable if nothing else. 

            It was always the cold thinking ones that were the most dangerous.

            The concept seemed to have penetrated the thick skull of the Earl as well, for he took a moment's hesitation before spewing rocks and lava.  It was perhaps the smartest thing he had ever done in his entire life. 

            Kaoru couldn't say she was pleased for him.

            Vastings eyed the newcomer with suspicious scrutiny.  The finely tailored outfit couldn't possibly belong to a peasant.  The intricate red silks and gold threads were far too elaborate for someone of low rank either.  He didn't look like anyone around here—red hair and gold eyes…

            Kaoru watched in muted amusement.  She swore she could hear the rusted wheels turning for the very first time in the Earl's head.  The squeaking from lack of use was deafening.

            And then it dawned on the Earl.

            Red hair and gold eyes!  There was but one man with that combination. 

            Kaoru watched the Earl straighten, a false smile plastered upon his face.

            "The Marquis of Drakgon I presume."

            Kenshin smirked.  "I see my reputation precedes me." 

            "Quite."  The Earl agreed easily, the bite not far beneath his tone.

            If there was one man that could be the poster child for the 'most sought after' Kenshin Himura's face would be blown up and plastered on it.  It would be followed by the 'most wealthy,' 'most charming,' 'most elusive,' and perhaps 'the most rakish.' 

            "However," Kenshin continued.  "Your reputation seems to have lost itself."

            Kaoru saw the Earl's smile twitch.  No doubt in agitation.  If there was one thing worse than identifying someone important, it was to have your own importance lost upon them.  Kaoru wanted to grin.  The Earl of Vastings, for all his hot air, had just been effectively snubbed.

            "I am the Earl of Vastings, I would wager that you have heard of me?" 

            Kenshin smirked.  "You would lose that wager then."

            A mummer of tense laughter rippled through the crowd.  Vastings gritted his teeth, the smile wavering dangerously.  Continuing in false amiability, he quipped acidly, "You are visiting I presume, and do not know of the customs here.  I am merely punishing a peasant for her insolence as is my right."

            Kenshin didn't bat an eye.  "I see.  Is it also the custom for the Earls around here to whip children and beat women that protect them?"

            The Earl bristled, the smile finally crumbling from his face.   Like the sludge monster that exploded from the façade of a swan, the Earl bared his ugly side-- all pretenses of niceties lost.

            "Stand aside Drakgon, this does not concern you."

            Kenshin didn't move—not the least swayed at the Earl's mounting fury.

            "Purple doesn't suit you Vastings."  Kenshin advised calmly.

            Kaoru watched in interest, as indeed, the color of the Earl's face turned from a hideous shade of purple, to an appalling red, and back to purple again.  His rage barely contained.  Kaoru surmised that if this red haired gentleman wasn't a Marquis, the Earl would have attacked him by now.

            "However," Kenshin continued.  "If you really insist on punishing this young lady, then I must challenge you to a duel."

            The Earl blinked stupidly.

             Kenshin cocked his head, the flaming red strands of his bangs falling becomingly across his stunning eyes. 

            "Does the custom of dueling also escape the English bred gentlemen?"  He inquired innocently, the purposeful undertones drawing another nervous chuckle from the crowd.

            Kaoru could have sworn that the Earl was about to burst. 

            "By all means," Vastings snarled.  "Let us duel."

            "Excellent."  Kenshin agreed, expertly drawing an expensive looking sword from the scabbard hanging from his hip.  Kaoru watched curiously, she had never before seen such an exquisitely thin blade.

            Even more curious, Kaoru watch as this Marquis of Drakgon subtly reverse the angle of his sword, so that the cutting edge was facing away from the Earl.  Was this man insane?

            The Earl bellowed for his sword, and his footmen hurried inside the carriage to bring out a highly adorned scabbard.  Drawing his sword as well, the Earl placed the double edged weapon in front of him. 

            "The terms are as follows, the first to draw blood wins."  Kenshin nodded towards Kaoru and the two children.  "They are to go free if I win, and you are not to seek them out for punishment."

            "And if I win" the Earl continued.  "You will be gone from this place, and I shall take that woman to my manor to do as I please."

            Kaoru scowled—the pig. 

            "Agreed."  Kenshin said. 

            Kaoru trained her startled eyes on the Marquis, unforgettable ceruleans wide upon her veiled face; not entirely sure whether to be pleased that she might be spared from revealing her title, or annoyed that some stranger had taken the liberty of placing her fate upon his shoulders.

            He smiled at her.

            "I will not lose." 

            Kaoru nodded at him, saying nothing.  Things could be worse she supposed.

            Turning back, the two men-- one a Marquis, the other an Earl---faced off in the narrow market street.  If the situation hadn't been so tense, it would have been comical.

            The faint, excited buzzing of the crowd, told Kaoru that some wily merchant had begun taking bets.  And if her hearing was correct, the vast majority of the votes landed on the red haired Marquis.

            The Earl of Vastings was the first to move.  Charging across the meager distance with practice strides, he whipped his sword down in a quick, hard stroke; the long and deadly blade aimed to mark a hideous gash across Kenshin's chest—starting from the tip of his collarbone to the lean muscles around his hip.

            The Marquis of Drakgon swept his thin blade upwards—the clash of the steel resounding, vibrating through the thick air.  Like two roaring jaguars the blades met, striking, clawing, battling for dominance—throwing off the rays of the sun in flashing defiance.

            --But skill was a power unmatched within the man who held an exquisite blade.

            The sword sang as the Marquis of Drakgon forced the Earl back with an upward swing, the delicate metal sharpening as it slithered up the double edged blade, to tower over its rival like the rearing head of a silver dragon. 

            Vastings stumbled, the hard tip of his expensive boots disturbing the finely grained sand as he skipped a few feet backwards.  Digging his heel in, the Earl charged forward once more.  Flashing steel raked low—aiming for the tender muscles around sides of the knee cap. 

            Kenshin smirked, streaking into the air like a red demon as the blade rushed at him.

            The board sword bit—and missed, hissing its failure as it gulped in thin air.

             The Earl looked up, squinting at the rouge silhouette soaring over his head.  Watching as the vermillion bullet descended, striking so powerfully at his weapon that the shock of it raced unpleasantly up his arm in numbing sensations.

            Blast the man!  The Earl gritted his teeth, eyes flashing as he fought to regain control of his startled blade.  Kenshin merely flipped backwards, his long red silks a banner as he landed softly on his feet.

            Vastings clutched the handle of weapon with both hands.  Sweat soaking into the finely tapered hilt as he rushed Kenshin.

            A smirked alighted on the Marquis' face as Vastings hurtled forth.  A lighting turn of his wrist simultaneously met, and snaked the double edged sword right out of the Earl's sweaty palms before the Earl had a chance to properly attack.

            The crowd gasped, watching the shiny blade twirl in the air, screaming, as it landed behind Kenshin—tip impaled into the ground.

            The Earl looked stupefied.

            Now, in a situation like this, the most sensible thing to do would be to admit defeat.  If one couldn't bear the insult, one would simply wait for the winner to turn his back to receive his share of glory, before one picked up their sword and cowardly stabbed said winner in the back.

            It was crude and not very original—but nevertheless, quite sensible. 

            However, what happened next was nothing that Kaoru had ever seen before.

            The Earl of Vastings roared and dived for his sword.  Kenshin obligingly, stepped to the side allowing the Earl's body to sail past him, like some terrible ape, to his prize.  On the way however, the silver of Kenshin's blade flashed in its descent, the flat side of the gleaming weapon landing in a satisfying wallop on the Earl's plump bottom.   

            It was sure to leave an unsightly welt for the next couple of days.

            The crowd, who had been unnaturally quiet through the entire exchange, erupted in laughter.

            Vastings, one hand furiously rubbing his assaulted bottom, grabbed at his sword—yanking furiously, until the ground groaned and gave way, releasing the tip it had swallowed.

            Emitting a battle cry that rivaled the feeding time for angry, starved monkeys, Vastings charged at Kenshin, who promptly stepped aside whilst simultaneously knocking the Earl's sword towards the ground.  Vastings lost his footing, and stumbled past Kenshin who rewarded him with another slap on his bottom—the resounding crack sending the once dignified Earl sprawling. 

            The crowd laughed uproariously-- knee slapping, stomach clenching laughter.

            Kaoru giggled.  While the attack alone was not sufficient enough to divide the Earl's bottom into fourths, it was ample guarantee that the Lord of Vastings would not be sitting for a while.

            Vastings turned back, beyond fury—an unearthly scream was emitted as he ran for Kenshin yet again.  This time, his sword swinging violently-- Gone was the practiced art of swordsmanship, in its place was a raving lunatic with a shiny weapon. 

            Kenshin raised his brows. 

            In a well aimed thrust, Kenshin's placed his blade in the line of the Earl's madness. The Earl, in his folly, slammed the tender part of his own wrist on Kenshin's blade. 

            He howled, and dropped his sword, his left hand clutching his injured being.

            Kenshin brought his blade down, nicking the Earl's neck, right where the Earl had wished to mark him before--

            --Ending the match.

            "You lose."

            The crowd cheered.

            Those that couldn't cheer could be found rolling on the ground in mirth.  If there was ever a more embarrassing end to a duel, no one could remember it.

            Kenshin straightened, sheathing his sword.   

            A gentle tugging caught his attention, as a small boy – the one that had been the cause of all the ruckus—reached up his small hands.  Kenshin crouched down opening his larger ones as the child dropped a token into his palm.

            "The lady said to give this to you."  He explained, smiling shyly, before running back to his sister.

            Kenshin blinked and looked up. 

            The young woman with the beautiful blue eyes, and ridiculous piece of haircloth tied around her face was nowhere to be found.

            Kenshin felt strangely dismayed. 

            If nothing else, he had wondered about the haircloth. 

            Glancing down at his hand, he saw a lovely jasmine in full bloom lying upon his palm. 

            Across the vast fields, through the jasmine gardens, a richly carved door creaked open.  Through its meager opening slipped a slender figure dressed in the garments of a peasant girl.  Quickly shutting the rather heavy structure behind her, Kaoru Kamiya scurried up the stairs, and dashed across an exceedingly long hallway.  With any luck, she may escape encounters with any unsavory mistresses or dimwitted maids that might inadvertently inform her mother, the Baroness Kamiya, that her precious daughter had yet again donned an unacceptable outfit and was seen running unbecomingly through the manner halls.

            Of course, that was only if she was lucky.

            Peering cautiously around the corner, Kaoru was most pleased to find that the halls were scrumptiously empty. 

            Picking up the folds of her skirt—Kaoru stuffed the ends of the bothersome thing into her waste line and took off at a sprint.  If she could reach the next corridor, then her room was not too much farther away.

            Unfortunately, it seemed that luck was in short supply this time of the month, for no sooner had she turned the corner did she come face to face with the head maid.  Well—it was more like, face to a very poofy behind.  Apparently, the head maid had conveniently bent over just at this precise moment to pick up a runaway rag from the pile in her hands. 

            Kaoru stifled a startled cry, her hand clutching the general area of her heart in attempts to convince the blasted organ that it was not particularly healthy to skip so many beats, before she opt to turn around.  Once again unfortunately, it just so happened that at that precise moment, the head maid retrieved the runaway scalawag and had turned just in time to see Kaoru's back—'almost' disappearing around the corner. 

            "YOU there."

            Biting down a sudden urge to scream, flail her arms, and run around madly in circles, Kaoru carefully turned her face around to exactly forty-five degree angle; the contours of it concealed by her haircloth, which had returned to her head. 

            A very hoarse and squeaky, "Yes?" was uttered.

            The head maid looked confused for a moment—not remembering anyone with such a raspy voice.  The troublesome rags however, effectively distracted her from reaching enlightenment as the massive pile of tittering washcloths leaned over threateningly. 

            "Well don't just stand there you ninny!" The very well endowed head maid proclaimed, waving one fleshy hand in emphasis. 

            "Come help!"

            Kaoru turned, glancing longingly at the hallway behind the maid—blast it all.

            Trudging over begrudgingly, Kaoru grabbed an armful of washcloths. 

            "Go take them to the washroom."

            "Yes ma'am," Kaoru rasped—and took off past her, down the coveted hallway.

            With any luck (seeing as the blasted element was strictly rationed—and she had all but used up hers for the next three years), Kaoru would be around the corner before the head maid realized that she had headed towards the chamber wing—located in the exact opposite direction of the laundry chambers.

             Kaoru watch the corner loom closer…

            closer...

            Closer…

            Just a little more…

            "HEY!"

            Kaoru ran.

            A leather incased foot slid forth silently upon one gnarled branch of a willow tree, slender fingers untwined themselves from the emerald vines as the inaudible clink of various daggers adorning the petite waist met. One long braid swung behind the lissome girl like a riveting viper, caressing the ends of a ridiculously short skirt. Balancing precariously upon the balls of her feet she leaped nimbly down to the next able branch, taking meticulous care to make sure that her royal blue outfit remained in the shadows as she peered through a polished window.

            Or, she would have peered through the window, if it weren't for the gargantuan silk web that hung belligerently in front of the glass.  Misao peered at the monstrosity, her eyes bulging at what she saw.   

            There it was-- a spider.  Sitting in the center was a big, fat spider.

            Yes, one fantastic specimen that Misao prays daily to never cross.  This one was yellow and green, no doubt royalty for its species. 

            A horrified shriek erupted from her throat, only to be muffled by her gauntlet-clad hand as she back-pedaled with death defying speed, rapping her head against the trunk of the tree.

            All former essence of a professional spy was gone—in its place was a young girl no more than twenty, stuck in a tree, with – not just any spider—but the king of spiders.  Wide saucer like eyes were trained on the royal crawler in morbid suspicion. 

            Snug, and infinitely happy at her misery no doubt-- The blasted creepy.

            "Don't move…please don't move. Just stay there, be happy, and don't move any one of your bazillion legs…"

            The spider raised one leg.

            Misao's eyebrow twitched.

            The spider wiggled his leg—

            -- and Misao was gone; up the tree, and through the next window.

            Slamming the window shut, she jerked her head to and fro, making sure no bypassing servant had caught sight of her.  If they did, she would just have to knock them out and hide them in a boom closet before they recognized her.  If they were lucky, someone would find them during the next clean up.

            After all, there was no way that she would be caught dead in this state—what a sight she would make.  The young charge of the esteemed Duchess Shinomori; mother of Lord Aoshi, running around the Thousand Cranes Estate in nothing short of what looked to be torn underwear.

            Goodness, if anyone bypassed her and lived to tell the tale, she would be the hot topic of gossip for the next ten years.  Word would spread like some terrible disease, and the following infection would plague her until her dying day.

            Worse yet, what if the Baron of the Thousand Cranes Estate caught her?  Misao knew that for the good of her continued health, she could not be caught.

            "Hide…yes…I gotta hide," Misao sputtered in broken sentences.

            Catching sight of a particularly inviting curtain, she quickly made herself scarce. Just as she finished blending into the folds, she heard a flurry of footsteps rush past her, dangerously disrupting her hiding place. 

            Trying her best to remain inconspicuous, Misao poked her head out from the safety of the curtains in attempts to catch a glimpse of what almost assaulted her.

            What she saw was something that strangely resembled a grey pumpkin.

            A smile spread across Misao's face.

            There was only one being in Europe that would take on the disguise of a living pile of laundry in means of escape.

            Kaoru.

            As she watched Kaoru reach through the layers of sodden fabrics, hands desperately searching for the doorknob that led to her chamber, Misao slid silently from her hiding place.

            Tip-toeing her way towards her unsuspecting friend, she held silent for a second before…

            "I HAVE YOU NOW YOU LITTLE BUGGAR!!!" Misao bellowed before she pounced.

            Kaoru screamed.

            Misao watched with some amazement as piles of rags was sent flying into the air.  When the chaos had settled Misao grinned in mirth at a wailing Kaoru sitting in the middle, babbling something that seemed to resemble.

            'It's not what you think.'

            'I'm really doing the laundry.'

            'It's for donating.'

            Misao cocked her head to one side.  Extending an index finger she poked Kaoru's forehead.

            Kaoru toppled over.

            Misao blinked.

            "What ARE you doing Kaoru?"  Misao exclaimed, waving her hands before putting them on her hips.  "It's ME!  Misao!"

            Kaoru sat up, a tad rumpled, eyes ablaze. 

            "Misao?"

            "Yes?"

            "I'm going to KILL you."

            An hour later found the two girls sitting comfortably on Kaoru's enormous canopy bed.  After convincing Kaoru why it was in her best interest not to commit murder before tomorrow morning, and explaining why it was imperative that Misao had not used the window below Kaoru's floor (big spider) – the two girls had taken turns bathing the grim off their bodies before enjoying a delicious cup of hot chocolate.

            Kaoru sighed, her long hair loose and flowing, as she leaned back and snuggled into her pillows.  The dark satin strands a lovely contrast against her lighter colored sheets.  Misao settled contently on her stomach, elbows cushioned by Kaoru's fluffy blankets as she sipped delicately at her drink.

            "So how are things at Vienna estates?"  Kaoru asked. 

             It had been several years since Misao Makimachi was orphaned and Lord Aoshi Shinomori had found her and taken her in.  The Duke and Duchess Shinomori were both quite taken with the young girl, and agreed to raise her as one of their own.  The entire London court had heard of it, how one parentless no-name child had made her way into the higher classed ton—and not just any ton, but the Shinomoris.  The title and status of the family alone was enough to send ugly talk raging like wildfire—fanned by the jealousy of less known Lords and Ladies.  The more brazen ones outright called her leech.  The more subtle ones repeated the name Makimachi in place of Shinomori when they spoke to her- in cruel attempts to remind her of her former status.

            Kaoru had paid little attention to the rumors, and was almost oblivious when she ran into the girl at the market.  Misao had been mouthing off at some thugs, deflecting their advances with well-placed throws of her daggers.  Kaoru, ever the impulsive, had been quick to grit her teeth and help the even the odds.  The two girls had, since then, been the best of friends.

            The rumors and gossip had since died down.  Misao, with the backing of not only the Shinomoris, but the daughter of the Baron of the Thousand Cranes, was ample deterrence for most predators of the ton. 

            "Oh!"  Misao exclaimed, her eyes bright.  "I almost forgot!  You won't believe what has happened!"

            "What?"

            "It's the most AMAZING thing in the world!"  Misao emphasized happily, waving an arm for emphasis.  "You won't believe what Lord Aoshi said to me!"

            If there was one thing Misao loved more than life itself, it would have to be Lord Aoshi Shinomori, the dark and handsome heir of the Vienna estates.  Kaoru had always thought him a tad broody, but Misao couldn't have been more taken with him.  While the prospects of Lord Aoshi suddenly proclaiming his everlasting love hadn't seem very promising within the past couple of years, it was always possible that Misao had since 'wowed' him with her womanly charms.

            "Did he tell you he liked you?"  Kaoru asked excited.

            "Sort of!"  Misao nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

            Pausing for dramatic effect, Misao stared up at the silken drapery of the canopy bed, her hands folded as if in prayer around her mug.

            "He said… 'Misao—would you like some tea?'"

            Misao sighed dreamily, no doubt reliving the wondrous event of her life.  The milestone in the road that led to Lord Shinomori's heart.

            Kaoru blinked.

            "That's… very nice."  Kaoru nodded, smiling in full efforts to be encouraging.  After all, if Aoshi offered tea one day, maybe he would offer a ring in the next couple of years.  Who knows?  This could very well indeed be a startling breakthrough.

            "Well now, let's get some shut eye."  Kaoru continued.  The events of the day were starting to catch up to her, and seeing that Misao had just scaled the walls of the Thousand Cranes Manor before tackling her—Kaoru would bet that the girl was tired as well.

            "I'll formally announce your arrival in the morning," Kaoru continued. 

            "Okay."  Misao agreed, taking her side of the bed.

            The following morning was just like any other morning on the beautiful Thousand Cranes estates.  The birds were singing, the owls were sleeping, and two lovely young girls were traipsing around the fronts of the stairs waiting for an opportune moment to slip out the door.

            Of course, that was where the normality of the day ended.

            An unusual bustling seemed to run like an uninvited undercurrent through the Thousand Crane Manor.  Servants, and the servants-of-the-servants, ran about dusting vases, wiping the banisters, and re-polishing the floors. 

            Kaoru Kamiya, whom had been standing impatiently for the past hour, frowned in distaste.  In the span of the dreadful hour, neither Misao nor herself had managed to find a scrumptious moment to scurry out unnoticed.  If things continued like this, Kaoru was seriously considering Misao's suggestion of hoisting themselves over the second story balcony and climbing down the side of the mansion.

            Begrudgingly she watched the skirted bodies go back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth…

            Kaoru sighed. 

            Craning her neck over her shoulder at an equally bored Misao, the blue-eyed girl searched for her sibling.  She hadn't seen Tomoe since the last time the goddess of the Thousand Cranes estates mentioned the debuts.  Hadn't Tomoe mentioned another suitor?  Someone new? 

            Kaoru would wager that all this commotion was probably due to an unexpected, but 'delightful,' visit from one of those hapless hopefuls.

            "Oh for heaven's sake!"  Kaoru exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.  She was a Lady Kamiya, and damned be any servants or guards that stopped her from stepping outside her own home.  Grabbing Misao's hand, Kaoru descended the stairs and with one great tug, heaved open the front door.

            What greeted her was a blast of fanfare and a pair of sterling green eyes.  Kaoru's heart could have veritably stopped for the second time in the span of two days.

            The Earl of Vastings.

            What in the world was he doing here?

            "Good morn' Lady Kamiya."  He drawled, dripping with false amiability as he bowed.  "And Miss Makimachi."

            Misao flinched.

            Kaoru glared.

            "That's Lady Makimachi Shinomori to you."  Kaoru snapped.

            The Earl looked startled for a moment, perhaps realizing it was not a good idea to wage a war with Kaoru at the steps of her own home, before he grinned easily. 

            "Of course, my apologies my lady."

            "Of course."  Kaoru agreed, with an expression that resembled more of a baring of teeth, than a grin.

            At that moment, the Baroness Kamiya descended down the stairs; an aged beauty that still held the vestiges of her once legendary countenance.  Looking at the doorway, she seemed surprised to find the Earl and Misao standing there.  Her surprise however, was quickly smoothed over as she floated down the steps.  The Goddess of the Thousand Cranes Estate, Lady Tomoe Kamiya came next.  Her luxurious dark hair was swept up into a fashionable style, set with precious rhinestones—and she looked equally surprised, if not more so, at the presences, which had invaded the Thousand Cranes manor.

            "Earl Vastings, what a pleasant surprise!"  Baroness Kamiya smiled, extending her hand to the handsome young Earl.  He, obligingly, kissed the tip of her knuckles.

            Turning, the Baroness Kamiya smiled at Misao.  "Lady Makimachi, so nice to see you!"  Smiling knowingly at Misao's attire that suspiciously resembled the one Kaoru had received from overseas a year ago, and since then, had been forgotten in her wardrobe-- Baroness Kamiya hugged the girl.  No doubt Misao made an unannounced appearance the night before— but the Baroness greeted her just the same.  Misao's spontaneous appearance at the Manor was something so familiar, that the Baroness was always little more than surprised to see the girl there.

            Tomoe glided over to Misao, a genuine smile on her face.  Slender arms enveloped the girl as she gushed.  "We've been wondering when you'd come back to visit us."

            "Lady Tomoe!"  The Earl exclaimed.  Kaoru watched with pity as Tomoe gave the briefest of grimaces before she turned to face the Earl.

            "Earl Vastings--" She started.  "This is… unexpected."

            "Yes."  He smiled wolfishly at her, stepping forward to kiss her hand as he whispered looking up, "I am an unpredictable kind of man."

            Kaoru bristled, not entirely sure whether she should first gag at the Earl's poor attempts of sensuality, then slam the curd's head with a freshly dusted vase; or beat him silly with the expensive porcelain-- then gag uncontrollably.

             Tomoe smiled, pulling her hand back a little quicker than socially acceptable. 

            The Earl frowned.

            Just then, a knocking sounded at the door, preventing what might've seemed to be the blossom of a very awkward moment.  Kaoru was only too glad to divert her attention anywhere other than the unsavory piece of male specimen.  The doorman quickly opened the intricate and beautiful door.

            However, what laid beyond the beautiful oak was something even more startling gorgeous. 

            Kaoru stared wide-eyed at the hauntingly familiar sight that filled the doorway. 

            Tomoe smiled, visibly relieved, at his appearance.  Kaoru glanced at her.  Was that a blush she saw on her sister's face?

            "I present the esteemed Marquis of Drakgon."  The footman announced.

            Five heads turned and stared bewildered— Kaoru looked at Misao who looked back in confusion.  Tomoe glanced at the Baroness who, just as quickly, gave a slight shrug in return.  The Earl, who looked like someone had just taken a swing at his family jewels, was quick to recover and give the next best thing to a scowl at the Marquis.

            Kenshin Himura stepped into the marble hallway, the light reflecting off the crystal chandeliers, enhancing the fierce gold of his eyes.  

            Kaoru swallowed, looking somewhat wry. 

            While she wasn't entirely sure what was going on, the situation seemed to have breached the realm of awkwardness after all.


	4. A session with Kaoru

_They say if you ignore awkwardness it'll go away…_

_…_

_Well I'm ignoring it…_

_And it ain't going away._

             Kaoru Kamiya stared rather incredulously at the group that filled the hallway.  What were the chances that the Earl and the Marquis would meet again within the meager span of twenty four hours?  At the Thousand Cranes estates no less!  Doubtlessly, the Earl of Vastings and the Marquis of Drakgon did not part on good terms.  Being thoroughly embarrassed in the market street, and having his behind walloped, was not exactly something that the Earl would easily forget about; Especially if that region of being was still smarting. 

            "Marquis Himura, you are right on time." The Baroness Kamiya started, offering her hand to the Marquis.  If there was one thing that was as predictable as the rising of the sun, it was the Baroness' innate ability to bulldoze over any signs of discord and preserve amiability. 

            Kenshin smiled easily at the high-classed Lady.  Kaoru watched with little fascination as he expertly tilted the corners of his mouth.  The hard line of it slanting sensuously as he kissed the tip of the Baroness' knuckles.  He then walked over—a predatory prowl-- and proceeded to take Tomoe's hand, brushing his lips across her palm. 

            Kaoru wanted to roll her eyes—men were all the same. 

            The Earl of Vastings cleared his throat, none too softly.  Kenshin lifted his head, piercing the Earl with the full force of his golden eyes, before releasing Tomoe; the look of superiority and contempt written in the smug smile on his face.

            Kaoru narrowed her eyes at the man.  Somehow, the Marquis didn't seem as valiant as when she first met him in the market streets.

            Baroness Kamiya quickly smiled at no one in particular, and motioned the lot towards the first receiving room of the Manor. 

            Kaoru tilted her head at Misao in indication towards the receiving room as well.  If there was a suitor in the house, then there was no way that Kaoru Kamiya was going to let him bypass her unscathed.  Misao, recognizing the mischievous gleam that sparked in Kaoru's eyes, grinned deviously as well. 

            Things were just about to get very, very interesting—far better than any market trip.

            The receiving room was simple but elegant; the white marble decorations flattering the cream colored carpet.  Gorgeous laced seats surrounded a lovely carved table, upon which, stood an expensive statue of a crane. 

            The Baroness Kamiya swept into the room; her beautiful dress adding a tasteful touch of color, as she seated herself comfortably on a reclining chair.  Tomoe followed her lead, her light dress fanning becomingly around her in pools of silk.  Kenshin obligingly, occupied an empty space as well.  As Misao and Kaoru bunched around the lovely Tomoe, Kaoru noticed with dawning delight, that the Earl of Vastings chose to stand inconspicuously next to the ivory fireplace. 

            Kenshin Himura measured the Earl knowingly, the dark humor swirling in his eyes unmistakable.  Kaoru however, did him one better.

            Standing as if horrified at the Earl's predicament, she quickly placed a delicate hand over her mouth exclaiming, "My dear Earl!  It is not fitting that you should stand so!  Here, let me find you a comfortable seat." 

            Winking at Misao and Tomoe, who were both watching Kaoru with incredulous confusion, the younger daughter of the Thousand Cranes quickly sped off around the corner before the Earl had a chance to politely refuse her thoughtfulness. 

            The Baroness Kamiya watched the retreating back of her raven haired daughter with suspicion, curious to her daughter's sudden bout of social grace.  Kaoru Kamiya was nothing if not quick witted, and unfortunately for any aspiring suitors, that particular talent was usually geared towards their unhappiness.  But for the life of her, the Baroness couldn't imagine anything harmful about grabbing the Earl an extra seat.  Surely it wouldn't trigger the apocalypse or set fire to the estate.  Shrugging to herself, the Baroness rang for tea.

            Kenshin Himura sat thoughtfully on the silken couch, drinking the fragrant liquid that had been served but a moment prior.  There was something strangely familiar about the younger daughter of the Kamiya sisters.  Granted, he had been a tad surprised when he realized that Tomoe was not the only child of the household.  With all the talk about the Lady Tomoe, there had been little indication that there was another eligible girl within the Thousand Cranes household.  Looking over at Tomoe, Kenshin was delightfully taken by her beauty.  Surely she would be a prize worth winning.

            A sudden opening of the receiving chambers tore his attention away from the lovely goddess.  What greeted his sight nearly made the Marquis of Drakgon choke on his tea.

            The youngest daughter of the Thousand Cranes had veritably dragged what looked to be the most devious chair in the household through the marble hallway and into the room.  The Baroness Kamiya raised her brow at the red oak seat.  The soft cushion that had been fastened to the top was conveniently missing.  What remained was a flat and hard surface that couldn't be terribly comfortable to sit upon. 

            Kaoru looked extremely pleased.

            Placing the chair expectantly in front of the Earl, Kaoru waved at the piece of furniture. 

            "Have a seat.  It's the finest red oak in the household."

            The Earl swallowed uncomfortably.  Kaoru noted with catlike satisfaction that Vasting's usual healthy demeanor had turned somewhat white.  Tilting her head, she lowered her voice, the threat not far beneath it.

            "Surely you don't plan to refuse a seat offered by a lady do you?"

            Kenshin Himura watched the girl curiously.  Why was she so adamant about sitting the Earl down?  It was almost as if she knew about Vasting's rather embarrassing predicament.  Kenshin couldn't say he felt sorry for the Earl.

            The Baroness frowned at the entire scene.  The Earl was being strangely fussy about sitting down.  Although Kaoru had indeed taken the liberty of finding the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in the household, it wouldn't kill the man to sit on it for a few minutes.  Heaven knew it was by far the kinder forms of torture that Kaoru had thus devised.

            "My dear Earl," The Baroness began, her irritation creeping into her honey smooth voice.  "Please, have a seat."

            The Earl paled. 

            Kaoru grinned at Vastings, flashing him the full benefit of her pearly encouragement, before returning to Misao's side. 

            Kenshin quietly sipped his tea, glancing at Kaoru, who was perched eagerly upon the sofa watching the Earl intently.  For some inexplicable reason, Kenshin Himura wanted to smile at her.  Even if the girl didn't know about the Earl's sore bottom, she had still tried to make his visit as unpleasant as possible.  It was endearing.  Most women of the ton fawned shamelessly over the Earl despite his appalling personality gaps.

            Kenshin Himura raised one russet colored brow in silent amusement, as he watched the Earl dance around the problematic oak, trying to find a suitable position to sit—then at the Baroness Kamiya, who was wearing a look of utmost confusion. 

            It was rich.

            Finally, the Earl of Vastings resorted to a half squat, his bottom looming dangerously over the seat. 

            "Are you alright dear Earl?"  Baroness Kamiya asked, smiling tentatively. 

            Vastings waved his hand, an effort to keep his easy smile on his good-looking face.  "Quite alright."  He assured her.

            Kaoru snickered from where she sat.

            The Baroness Kamiya shot her daughter a dark look. "In that case," she continued, turning to the Marquis of Drakgon, intent on bulldozing over the uncomfortable situation.  "May I inquire dear Marquis, the intent upon your visit?"

            "Certainly," Kenshin replied, his eyes shifting to a dark haired swan.  "I would be most honored to court the lovely Lady Tomoe Kamiya."

            Two pairs of eyes narrowed simultaneously, one belonging to Kaoru, the other pair owned by the Earl.  Baroness Kamiya's eyes widened in barely contained surprise and joy.

            "Dear Marquis," the Baroness began, her cheeks flushed with excitement at the prospect of such an esteemed future son in law, "Our lovely Tomoe would be most pleased.  Aren't you Tomoe?"

            "I am most flattered."  Tomoe agreed meekly, her lavender eyes shyly meeting those of Kenshin; the heavy long lashes giving her an exotic look in the pale light of the room-- Exactly the way she had been taught to do in such a situation. 

            Kaoru sat uncomfortably, her sparkling eyes ablaze, as she gently chewed on her lip in thought.  How was she going to scare this one off?

            "I object!"  The Earl barked.

            Kaoru blinked at him in irritation, suddenly remembering that his unwelcomed being was still present.  Four other eyes blinked at the Earl as well—at a loss for the Earl's sudden passionate, and quite uncalled for, outburst.

            The Baroness Kamiya was smiling at him, though Kaoru noted grimly that her mother's usual flawless smile was starting to show signs of strain around the edges.  "And what pray tell," The Baroness asked slowly, "are you objecting about?"

            "This man," Vastings began, training his eyes on Kenshin, whom easily met the Earl's gaze with his own frosty gems. 

            "…is a menace."  He finished.

            "A menace?" Baroness Kamiya echoed dubiously.

            "A menace."  Vastings agreed dramatically.

            "I see."  The Baroness remarked dryly, the irritation finally seeping into her honey sweet voice. 

            "And pray tell dear Earl, how is the Marquis a menace?"

            Kenshin looked at the Earl expectantly, a smirk on his delectable face.  "Yes, do tell, I am eager to learn."

            "Well." The Earl began  "He-- carries a sword." 

            "He carries a sword."  The Baroness repeated.

            "Yes, he carries a sword."

            "And that is why he is a menace?"

            "Yes."  The Earl nodded.

            "But you carry a sword."  The Baroness frowned.  "All gentlemen carry swords."

            The Earl shifted uncomfortably. 

            "Yes, but his is a foreign sword."

            The Baroness Kamiya bit rather testily.  "I see-- then we'll take our chances with his foreign sword Lord Vastings."

            Kaoru glanced at Misao who was turning red in efforts not to burst out in uncontrollable laughter.  Smiling to herself, Kaoru promptly decided that her mother wouldn't be terribly appalled at the insufferable Earl if he was somehow—inclined to leave.

            Standing in mock concern, Kaoru exclaimed.  "Dear Earl!—Goodness, squatting like that is terrible for the legs.  My heavens, your legs are starting to shake from strain—here let me help you!"

            With that, Kaoru Kamiya promptly hurtled towards the Earl's startled form. 

            "No, uh- no Lady, its alright I—uh"

            But Kaoru would not be stopped.  Plowing forward, her entire menacing height of 5'6' she crashed into the Earl in her haste.  Hooking a chair leg with her own underneath the protective secrecy of her full skirt, she knocked the red oak seat right from underneath the Earl.

            He landed with a satisfying, earsplitting wail on the ground.

            Kaoru had the decency to look mildly concerned.

            "Are you alright?"

            She was quite satisfied to hear no answer from the huddled form of what might have once been a dignified noble.  She tilted her head, concluding that it must hurt terribly, considering he was reacting similarly as if someone took a bat to his family jewels.

            Pity.

            "Oh you silly Earl!"  Kaoru exclaimed, fully intending to accidentally stub her booted toe on his sore behind.  "Here—let me help you!"

            "NOOOO!!!"  The Earl hollered in alarm.  Then remembering where he was, he quickly lowered his voice.  "No.  No--its quite alright."

            Kaoru watched with some amazement at the speed of which the Earl stood up. 

            "I shall be taking my leave if you don't mind dear Baroness," He bowed a crooked bow.  "Lady Tomoe."

            The two Kamiya's nodded.

            Kaoru watched in smug satisfaction as the Earl of Vastings hobble his way to the doorman.  Guess she didn't have to resort to chasing him around the room with a broom after all.

            Turning, Kaoru trained her eyes on the Marquis, her full attention and crafty wiles focused on her new prey.  Kenshin met her eyes and raised his brow. 

            Kaoru smiled at him, a devious predatory smile.  "My dear Marquis of Drakgon, did you know that the Thousand Cranes estates are the most lovely this time of year?"

            "I thought it was lovely the entire year."  Kenshin returned.

            "Oh my!  What a charmer!"  Baroness Kamiya exclaimed, placing a hand delicately upon her bosom in approval.

            "Yes," Kaoru continued, placing a hand on her hip, the other caressing the air.  "But it is most lovely today.  Would you like a tour of the estates?"

            "Excellent idea, Kaoru!"  the Baroness cried before Kenshin could either agree, or disagree.  The elder Baroness was quite aware of what Kaoru was intending to do.  The little sister of Tomoe Kamiya had veritably frightened off many a suitor upon her innocent invites—and there was no way the Baroness Kamiya was about to let Kaoru frighten away such a magnificent catch as this one. 

            "Tomoe!  Why don't you show Lord Himura around?  The gardens are positively exquisite this time of year."

            Tomoe smiled a little sheepishly, glancing at Kaoru, who in turn grinned back at her expectantly.  "I would love to, however, Kaoru knows the gardens the best—I think she should come along."

            Kenshin looked at Tomoe a little surprised.  Upon the unfortunate manors that he had thus visited, the women of the household clawed at each other's throats for some private time alone with him.  He had never met anyone whom had thus far given up such an opportunity; this Lady Tomoe Kamiya was more complex than he thought.

            "Tomoe," The Baroness tried signaling her eldest daughter with her eyes.  "I'm sure you know the gardens well enough."

            Tomoe smiled at her mother.  "I haven't been there for a while now."

            Kenshin stood up, offering Tomoe his arm. 

            "I do not mind more company."  Kenshin told the Baroness, who seem to deflate in defeat.

            "Very well."  She inclined, glaring at Kaoru, "Why don't you all go then."

            Misao, whom had thus far said very little, promptly got up to follow after the retreating group.

            "Misao!"  The Baroness called, intent on keeping the group as small as possible.  "Why don't you come help me with some embroidery?"

            Outside, the air was sweet and refreshing.  The famous jasmine fields perfumed the Thousand Cranes estates with their unique flavor, as the three young people traversed across the stone pavements and into the garden.  They followed the winded paths of blossoming flowers and bubbling fountains; past the chirping bluebirds, and gurgling swallows.  Kenshin Himura should have expected what occurred next, but unfortunately, even the Marquis of Drakgon couldn't have guessed that the Lady Tomoe Kamiya would not only take her little sister along, but completely ditch her stroll with him in the garden.

            It was surprisingly annoying to say the least, as Kenshin Himura watched Tomoe's face alight with sudden epiphany at something she had conveniently forgotten back at the manor, then consequently hurry away before he could detain her.

            So there he was, one Marquis of Drakgon stuck with the little sister of the woman he had wanted to court.  How fetching.  If he didn't know better, he would suspect that Tomoe, being the illustrious being that she was, had overshadowed her poor sibling so completely over the years, that she was now throwing bits of her catch to her younger blood in hopes to make up for it.  Kenshin frowned at his own explanation in distaste.  Why did he have to be the one she threw away then?  Lord Himura sighed, yet another afternoon spent with some girlish hopeful, whom was positively pleased to be with him no doubt.

            Turning, Kenshin was startled to catch the burning gaze of one extremely peeved woman: the scowl on her face, a mile wide.

            "Listen, you—stay away from Tomoe.  I will not have the likes of you marrying my sister."

            Kenshin raised his brows.

            "The likes of me?"

            "Yes.  Good-day."  Kaoru quipped before turning on her heel, not bothering to explain what exactly 'the likes of him' meant. 

            Kenshin watched in silent disbelief as she started upon the path to which Tomoe had earlier disappeared.  Why the little—what was wrong with these girls?  He was the Marquis of Drakgon for heaven's sake, and he'd be damned if he was snubbed by not one, but two girls in one day.  The offense was unheard of.

            "Are you jealous?"

            Kaoru halted.  Turning her head to him, she glowered at him.  "No, I have no need to be."

            "I think you are."  Kenshin challenged, leaning back against the bark of the willow tree as he crossed his arms.

            "Then you thought wrong."  Kaoru remarked lazily over her shoulder, continuing her departure once more.

            Kenshin frowned, "Actually, it wouldn't be too surprising, considering that everyone comes calling for Tomoe instead of you."

            Kaoru bristled, the insolent moron!  How dare he insult her at her own home!

            Whirling, Kaoru smiled cattily, an appropriate punishment already devised in her head.

            "Well, if you are so intent on getting Tomoe, lets make a deal then."

            A deal?

"I'm listening."

            Kaoru nodded towards the north end of the garden.

            "You see that entrance?  That's the door to the famous garden maze of the Thousand Cranes estates."

            Kenshin looked toward where she indicated.  The small leafy gateway a charming entrance to the unknown.  Kenshin tilted his head, remembering vaguely that he had read somewhere about the Thousand Cranes Gardens, by far the largest and most elusive construction on this side of the continent.

            Kaoru grinned to herself.  While she had memorized every turn of the gardens by heart, the last time she had resorted to using this challenge, the poor chap ended up in tears trying to find his way out.  It wasn't until her mother, the Baroness Kamiya demanded that Kaoru go find the poor man that she was forced to show him the way out.

            "The deal is, you must follow me to the center of the maze.  I will start about a hundred paces in front of you—and you must find me before the sun sets.  If you do, then I will consider letting you court my sister.  She will not see anyone I do not approve of.  However, if you lose, then you are to forget about Tomoe and go back to your expensive French estate." 

            Kaoru smirked, crossing her arms, fully expecting a beastly retort at her rather strange offer.

            Kenshin walked up to Kaoru, leaning forward so he was merely a breath away from her face.

            "Agreed."

            Kaoru blinked to hide her surprise.

            "Very well," she announced, turning to the garden.  "Shall we?"

            Kenshin waved a hand, bowing.

            "Ladies first."

            Raising her brow and giving him a small 'humph,' Kaoru started for the maze at a full run.  She ran down the first path of arching trees which led to a small and beautiful fountain.  Most of the visitors stopped there and never bothered to venture any further.  However, within the hedges that surrounded the lovely Italian styled plaza, several open pathways were inviting around the corner of the hedges.  Kaoru ran, light footed, past the water structure to the one farthest along the edges. 

            Turning around a corner she ran down a path which split into three more separate paths, each curving around the corners out of sight.  Looking over her shoulder to make sure that Kenshin was still far behind, she ventured further into the maze.

            Mentally laying out the map of the maze before her, Kaoru mumbled inaudibly to herself.

            Left.

            Left.

            Right.

            Left.

            Right.

            Right.

            Left.

            Right.

            Left.

            Right.

            A ha!

            Crouching down, Kaoru parted the perfectly blended blooming white roses to reveal a small pathway.

            Crawling through, Kaoru was careful to rearrange the flowers behind her.  The shortcut would shave off at least a full hour to the illusive center than any of the paths ahead.  Standing back to silently observe her handiwork, satisfied that it was near perfect, she turned and promptly fled down the following corridor of blooming carnations and flitting humming birds.

            Right.

            Left.

            Right.

            Right.

            Left.

            Walking into another small fountain plaza she took a moment to enjoy the beauty of the place.  It was even more gorgeous than the one earlier on in the maze.  The Greek and roman influenced structures were a fetching sight to behold.  Strolling past the fountain, she stopped a moment to listen.  Usually, the heavy clumping boots of her victim could be heard clomping about the place from here, but surprisingly, she heard nothing.

            Shrugging to herself, Kaoru continued. 

            Running past the fountain she continued on a path that split off in the center; one which lead to a dead end, the other which led to three other paths.  She took the one with the dead end.

            Upon hitting a solid wall of vegetation, she parted the left corner of the wall, slipping through the sides easily.  She had found out there was a slight crack there once when she had gotten lost herself in the maze hiding from her sewing instructor.

            Tip toeing past the next two corridors she stopped to admire a particular piece of the flower woven wall.  Here, the yellow daffodils were a bit mussed and clumped up, from that fateful time when her victim had gotten lost only to claw at the winking happy flowers in efforts to make his own exits.  Unfortunately, he ran into the stone wall upon which the flowers were grown.  Kaoru smiled at the memory before continuing. 

            She was sure that Lord Kenshin Himura was thoroughly lost by now. 

            Finally, hitting a seemingly blocked pathway, she traversed to the end of it and turned right; the opening unseen from the entrance of the path.  Crossing a charming bridge, she turned a sharp left, past the jasmine flowers.

            Upon entering the center, she did a victorious twirl, enjoying the breathtaking wonders of the illusive plaza.  There was nothing more beautiful in the maze than its center.  From here, several crystal fountains dazzled its viewer, enchanting the pale jasmine flowers flourishing along side of it.  Spraying mists hailed its own aura, cloaking the waters in its mystery.

            Kaoru sighed, walking to the edges of the sculpted seats to wait for the Lord that would most likely never arrive.  While she had made it to the center well before sundown, she wouldn't be terribly surprised if it took him all night, then maybe the next day to retrace his steps.  Closing her eyes, she took in the medley of sweet smells and the natural scent of the water.

            However, what happened next was something that Kaoru had never anticipated.

            A gentle tapping sounded upon the curves of her slender shoulder.  The brush of thumb unmistakable upon her satin skin and Kaoru whirled around.

            She stared in horror at the smug and handsome face of the Marquis of Drakgon.

            Kenshin Himura leaned in, tapping a slender index finger on her nose.

            "I found you."


	5. Rendezvous

_Even in the darkest night—_

_I know that you will find me._

Kaoru Kamiya stared wide-eyed at the man with flames for hair standing a mere breath away. Her breath hitched within the confines of her throat, which suddenly seemed far too tight for air to pass through. For a second, she considered the option of breaking down into unbecoming screams—a foolhardy bellow that never did do much for solving anything, except perhaps, make the culprit of the noise feel a tad better. Swallowing the air that was pressing uncomfortably against her throat, Kaoru Kamiya stared up defiantly at the man who was adorning a look of perfect amusement; his smug silence speaking louder than any taunting boasts thrown at her in the past. Kaoru did the only thing she could think of to do.

She whacked him. A good hard smack that landed in a satisfying "poof" against the fine embroidered layers of the Marquis' elegant outfit.

"_WHAT_ are you doing here?" She demanded, looking every bit as impetuous as the nobleman standing before her. As if she hadn't made a bet with him. As if he hadn't won that bet _because_ he was standing right before her.

Kenshin looked mildly startled, a fleeting expression that was quickly replaced by a dubious raise of his brows. The effect of it, devastating in the waning dusk as his smoldering eyes trapped the retreating rays of sun—magnifying the molten gold.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Kaoru snapped, planting her hands on her hips in her most threatening fashion. "What are you doing here?"

Kenshin had the audacity to look amused.

"Well my Lady Kaoru," He began reasonably, tilting his head to one side as if he was in the midst of heavy contemplation, beautiful eyes surveying the glinting crystals. "I seem to recall something of a bet?" Those gems returned to study her face.

Kaoru scowled, willing black thunderclouds to roll over and darken the sky above—just for dramatic emphasis. After several seconds of futile summoning, when she was quite sure that the weather would simply not comply with her wishes, Kaoru settled for a snooty 'humph,' and a definite—

"It's off."

Kenshin blinked at her, managing an innocently bewildered expression. One that was tainted suspiciously by the knowing look he left lurking about the flints of his eyes.

"What's off?"

"It."

"It what?"

"_It."_

"The bet?"

"Yes—the bet."

"What? You cannot simply call it off—especially, _after_ I have won it."

"Of course I can!" Kaoru declared, waving a hand as if to dismiss his protest.

Kenshin smirked. "That's very unreasonable of you, Lady Kaoru."

"Nonsense, I am perfectly entitled to nullify this bet."

Kenshin looked dubious. "And why is that?"

"Because," Kaoru explained patiently, "You cheated."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Cheated." Kaoru accused. "C-H-E-A-T-E-D. Cheated." She repeated, just in case he wasn't clear about it the first time around, or was incapable of spelling the word. "It is quite obvious."

Kenshin tilted his head. "Is it?"

"It is." Kaoru announced resolutely, crossing her arms over her chest to show her disapproval at the man's underhanded methods.

Kenshin felt the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, but manfully refrained from indulging in his amusement at the woman's ridiculous logic.

"I see." He finally said, careful to drive away any hints of expression. Prowling forward with deliberate care, he was pleased to see Kaoru flinch, her expressive eyes wary at his advance. Watching her, the Marquis didn't fail to notice the way Lady Kaoru Kamiya tensed her shoulders, straightening them in defiance. The angles of her face turned up against the light, intent on bullying him into submission. For a moment, he hesitated, the feeling of familiarity tugging incessantly at the recesses of his mind—willing him to remember.

If he hadn't known better he could have sworn he had seen those eyes, that stance, somewhere else before.

Leaning forward rakishly, he purred, soft and husky. "I assure you my lady, I did not cheat."

Kaoru irritably swallowed the lump that had lodged itself uncooperatively in her throat, impairing her ability to take in air, much less ramble indecent curses at the man invading her personal space. There was something remarkably unsettling about the way this Marquis of Drakgon carried himself. His natural confidence and assured sensuality was far too smooth for her taste. Kaoru scowled unhappily, deciding that it was definitely unfair for the man to also possess such good looks. It would have been better for the fairer sex if he had been a tad plumper and far less devastating.

Kaoru Kamiya jabbed a finger into his chest-- pleased to see the briefest look of startlement flicker upon the Marquis face.

Kenshin looked down at the milk white digit poking furiously into his chest, not remembering if there had ever been a time that he was poked or prodded without his consent. And not remembering that he had ever given that consent. Grabbing that hand easily within one of his own, Kenshin pulled Kaoru towards him, effectively ending her assault as her feminine frame crashed into his masculine one.

Kaoru Kamiya let out a small yelp of surprise, as she blinked into the folds of Kenshin's shirt. Suddenly aware of how intimidating he was, and how very much secluded they were within the confines of a very elusive garden. Jerking away from him, Kaoru glared fiercely at the man standing before her.

"Of course you cheated." Kaoru scowled cattily, flushed and intent upon staying on topic. "How else did you find me? You could not have possibly discovered the center in such a short amount of time."

Kenshin grinned unrepentantly. "Perhaps, I just have an amazing sense of directions."

Kaoru snorted, unconvinced. "I don't know how you cheated, but you did. You can't be here, its not possible. You're not here."

"Of course I'm here."

"But you shouldn't be."

"But the fact remains, I am standing here."

"Well it doesn't count." Kaoru announced.

Kenshin tilted his head. "Because I cheated?"

"That's right."

"Suppose I tell you how I got to the center? Would you honor the bet then?"

Kaoru looked at the man before her testily. "Certainly."

Tapping her foot impatiently, she shot him a vaguely annoyed look. "Well?"

The Marquis rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully, turning to look at the hedges with a wry expression. Kaoru had a sneaking suspicion that he was laughing—which most definitely did _not_ amuse her.

"You see those hedges there?" Kenshin began, waving his hand expansively. Kaoru followed his line of vision testily.

"Yes—rather hard to miss mi'lord. It does, after all, make up the entire structure of the maze gardens."

Kenshin raised his brow at her, a clear indication that he didn't very much appreciate her sarcasm. "Does it? I hardly noticed— rather difficult to notice the scenery when you're leaping over it."

Molten gold slid craftily towards the girl who was blinking with something akin to startlement. "Don't you agree Lady Kaoru?"

Kaoru narrowed her eyes. "Are you trying to tell me—_sir_—that you LEAPT over the hedges?"

"Yes." Kenshin grinned bemusedly. "It was quite simple actually, to follow your trail. You smell distinctly of jasmine my dear, and --" He tapped a long and graceful finger to the tip of his nose, giving her a sidelong look. "I have an amazing sense of smell."

Kaoru was nothing short of flabbergasted-- a small sentiment she was not willing to share with the nobleman standing so smugly before her. It occurred to her to call him a liar or at the very least a bloodhound, but it seemed rather a moot point. After all, he _was_ standing right before her, and he must have gotten there somehow. Besides, his leaping over the entire maze made slightly more sense than use of sorcery.

But only slightly more.

Had Kaoru not seen, with her very own eyes, the Marquis of Drakgon's gravity defying leaps when he towered victoriously over the ridiculous Earl, she might have been inclined to chase the man around with a broomstick until he gave a much more believable answer. As it was she could only tilt her head, tapping her chin lightly with her forefinger.

"I see."

Kenshin blinked at the young woman. That was it? 'I see?' No rant? No awe inspired outcry?

"That's it?"

The young woman looked at him sweetly, surely a bad sign -- if the Earl's misfortune with the chair was any indication of future events to come.

"Yes that's it. You win—I'm a very reasonable person my lord I assure you."

Kenshin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the young woman. If that was all the fight the youngest daughter of the Thousand Cranes intended to offer, then he had surely overestimated her legendary abilities. Golden eyes surveyed the serene look of contentment upon her face.

"Oh don't look so guarded my lord—I assure you, I'll let you court my dear sister. In fact," Kaoru smiled, a slight tilt of her lips that curved in an amazingly fascinating manner. "I shall even set up the occasion for you."

Kaoru cleared her throat, as if she were to announce something exceedingly important. "How does tomorrow night abode for you my lord?"

Kenshin regarded the young woman thoughtfully, deciding that--although he was quite unsure what game the chit was playing—he certainly wasn't going to lose. Flashing her, his most devastating—melt-into-a-puddle-for-me- grin he replied—

"Tomorrow night is terrible."

Kenshin hid his smug smile as he saw the amiable patience of the fire spitting sprite waver.

"I see-- " She frowned. "No, actually I don't. Why pray tell is tomorrow night terrible?"

Er—Kenshin racked his brain for a suitable reply—what did make tomorrow so terrible indeed? Apparently his reply wasn't terribly well thought out—no pun intended of course.

"Tomorrow I'm to develop a serious hacking cough that I will not be rid of until the following morning."

Kaoru stifled something that sounded strangely like a strangled cat. Straightening her face with decidedly admirable speed she replied.

"I see. That sounds serious."

"It is most serious." Kenshin agreed readily.

"Very well—I will whip up a miracle cure for you this very night." Kaoru nodded. "I'm a bit of an expert on medicine."

Kenshin snorted. "Of that I have no doubt."

Kaoru shrugged. "And if I'm not, I shall have plenty of practice on you, every aspiring expert must start somewhere they always say."

"Who always says?"

"Er—they." Kaoru nodded, walking backwards.

"They who?"

"They who would want you cured of your future hacking cough mi'lord."

Kenshin raised his brow. "How very thoughtful of them."

Kaoru nodded. "So tomorrow night it is then! I shall inform my sister- she will be so pleased."

With that impertinent sentiment, Kaoru turned and dashed off towards the exit of the maze, a crafty smirk hidden in the shadows playing upon her face.

Tomorrow night indeed…

* * *

"You incompetent wench! Give me that!"

"I'm so sorry! Please forgive me my Lady Takani!"

The young girl winced as the silver embroidered comb was sharply snatched from her fingers. Leaving her startled glance to bear the full weight of livid emeralds.

A slap resounded through the chamber.

"A lowly maid such as yourself shall _never_ look me in the eye! Your eyes are meant only to see the ground and my feet! Is that understood?" Megumi Takani's irate tone echoed in the dead silence of the room.

"Of course my lady," the girl sniffled a reply, in great attempts to hold the flood of tears that were sure to come the instant she was out of sight.

Disdain lined Megumi's face as she watched the new maid attempt to curb the sounds of her sniffling. She had all but a handful of competent maids running her entire estate.

The Vulpinyre Estate.

Home of Lord and Lady Takani, that is— until the untimely death of them both. A dark scowl crossed her features. They had left her, their only child, to manage the Vulpinyre Estate at the tender age of twelve.

"Leave me."

Needing no further incentive, the young maid gathered up her grey-skirt and fled from the chamber.

Startling green eyes glanced lovingly at the simple yet elegant silver comb lying benignly within her hands. Her mother's comb which held enough sentiments with her that she hadn't – it didn't matter anyway. She had decided to keep it, and that was that.

One pale finger ran along the intricate design until it met with the source of the maid's error, one long dark strand of forest-black hair. Plucking it from the delicate prongs, she took a seat upon the plush chair facing her vanity table. Running the spines of the comb gently through her raven hair, she was interrupted by the gentle rapping upon her door.

"If it is nothing important Marie, leave me."

The only response however was the dull clicking sound as the door opened to reveal a woman well pass her prime.

"I believe my little fox is irate."

The only other person that she allowed to call her fox aside from the rooster-head, well, then again, Sano never really had her permission, but that was a moot point. Marie, the wonderful aging woman, had taken her under her caring wing when her mother had passed away. She was possibly the world's best housekeeper.

An exasperated sigh escaped from Megumi as she waved her arm dramatically across her forehead, "The Vulpinyre Estate is on a rapid decline."

"Did someone tear your lovely hair again?"

Megumi scowled at Marie, as if that single strand of hair that had been previously stuck in her comb had been the source of all her anger, all her distress.

"What's the matter my little fox? Did some blindingly handsome gentleman suddenly become struck with mental derangement and refuse to dance with you at the debut?"

Megumi arched a refined eyebrow, "Marie, no blindingly handsome gentleman has _ever_ refused to dance with me, mental derangement or not."

Marie had the audacity to laugh as she took the comb from her hand. "Of course not my little fox. Who could resist your persistent charms?"

"No one."

A contented purr escaped from her lips as she felt Marie's sure and gentle strokes fall into slow rhythm. As the spines slid through her silken hair in a soft caress, she let her mind drift to the events of that night at the debut.

_She was practically glaring holes into the back of the woman who had so begged for pardon and "inconspicuously" cut in as the soft sounds of the next dance began to drift across the ballroom. As she was whisked away by another gentleman she was hoping that the girl's dress would suddenly catch fire._

_A chuckle broke her through her reverie, "I'm hurt Fox. Certainly I am more pleasing to the eye than that Marquis."_

"_I think I may go blind."_

"_I never knew that the shine factor of my charm was so potent."_

_Sano tipped his head back and let out a throaty laugh as she had all but fairly growled at him. Her forest-green gems narrowing dangerously upon his person as she spoke in clipped tones, "What do you want Sano?"_

"_Why I think I may be insulted my 'lady', I was only seeking the pleasure of your company–OUCH!"_

_Sano grimaced as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab his affronted foot that she had non-too-gently deemed the largest bug she had ever seen and proceeded to stomp on with her amazingly sharp heel._

"_The pleasure is all mine my Lord," she responded smoothly as she glided away from him._

_Leaving the wounded man to tend to his damaged foot in the middle of the dance floor, she let her gaze peruse over the crowd for a certain red-headed Marquis as she took a small sip from her lemonade. A certain red-headed Marquis who was also conveniently very wealthy, and devastatingly handsome. _

_She frowned as the only red apparent on the dance floor were the twirling silks of a few debutantes._

_Where in the devil was that man?_

Her gaze darkened upon the surface of her vanity table, the last she saw of the Marquis of Drakgon was when that simpering debutante had cut in, and cut her short of her dance with the handsome lord. The event had finished with the distasteful rumor that the Marquis was seen with 'a vision of beauty.'

Vision of beauty indeed. If said 'vision of beauty' wasn't her, then the woman certainly wasn't a vision, and unquestionably wasn't a beauty.

"I shall leave you to your musings," Marie said as she patted Megumi's shoulder softly.

"Thank you Marie."

The old woman only smiled gently and left the room.

Her gaze returned to the vanity table, upon which, sat a cream-colored envelope. Long, elegant fingers slipped a dull blade beneath the wax seal of the Thousand Cranes, opening the envelope to pull forth a simple, yet beautiful card.

It was an invitation to the Kamiya Spring Ball, a ball to rival that of the famous London event that featured the season's debutantes.

A crafty smile danced across painted lips; it was also where the diamond of the first water was usually acknowledged among the men. Meaning, there will also be a hideously large amount of aristocratic gentleman present. Most of whom possessed titles. Most of whom were still very attainable and wealthy bachelors. But more importantly, the Marquis of Drakgon would undoubtedly show face—and he was certainly one fish she intended to spear for herself.

And perhaps, she might even meet the woman that had the debutantes fanning themselves silly with distress, and men charmed beyond redemption.

She turned over the vanilla card— yes, she was certainly eager to meet this Tomoe Kamiya.


End file.
